The Three R's
by axelkairi
Summary: Rufus. Reno. Revenge. It's been four years. And today, I will kill Rufus Shinra. RenoxOC
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII.**

A/N: I got this idea spontaneously, so let's hope it doesn't flicker out just as spontaneously. Hope you like!

**The Three R's**

**Prologue**

It's been four years. Four years since the use of mako was banned. Four years since Shinra Inc. was destroyed. Four years since the collapse of Sector 7. Four years since the sound of screaming was drowned out only by the sound of metal crunching against metal and bone and flesh, since fire and smoke blotted out the only sky we'd ever known, since mothers and fathers and children were brutally crushed under a falling plate.

Four years since my parents shoved me through the gates to Sector 8 and told me to stay put while they rescued my little brother. Four years since the explosion shattered the bones in my legs, and I crawled through the rubble, bleeding and sobbing, only to find my mother's disembodied hand with her wedding ring.

Four years, and a wedding ring and memories are all I have left. A wedding ring, memories, and burning hatred, one that nothing will snuff out.

Nothing but Rufus Shinra's death.

It's been four years. And today, I will kill Rufus Shinra.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII.**

A/N: Well, I have a two-hour road trip ahead of me now, so hopefully I'll get some serious headway into this story. I'm kinda excited about it, not gonna lie. I really hope it goes places. Anyway, here it is! Hope you like!

**The Three R's**

**Chapter One**

Rufus Shinra walked inside a lopsided shack on the outskirts of Edge at 11:27am on Thursday. I had arrived at 11:20am. He'd been visiting the shack on a regular basis, and lately his visits seemed to occur on Thursdays. I didn't know why, and I didn't care to know.

I should have been weighed down, considering all the weapons I carried, but my footsteps were silent against the dirt ground, plodding carefully through the wooden and metal debris, my eyes focused on my current target: the left side of the shack. There was a great amount of open distance between the pile of wooden planks that I inched around and the shack in front of me, but I could manage – I just had to time it right.

Through a dusty window, I caught a glimpse of his face – his unsmiling, flawless face – and my stomach churned. I had smiled the day Weapon destroyed the Shinra Building in Midgar, but he'd practically slapped the grin off my face personally with the announcement that he'd survived. That day, he stood before the public on a televised press conference and explained how he'd hid in a secret passageway, burned and broken, for his Turks to rescue him. His recovery had been a slow and arduous one, but it was finally finished, and he never felt better.

I had smashed in the television that day, and the woman I was living with kicked me out of the house. I was furious, more furious than I had been in two long years. That day I walked outside of Edge and looked over the ruins of Midgar, at Sector 7, at the unofficial graves of my family, and made them a solemn vow: that I would kill Rufus Shinra at any cost. I would avenge my family, and all the victims of Shinra's tyranny. I would wipe the Shinra family off the face of the earth.

I trained for two years. I perfected eleven weapons – small sword, broadsword, nunchaku, sais, whip, crossbow, rifle, pistol, handgun, machine gun, and grenade launcher – and was up to par with my kickboxing instructor. I never stopped training; my whole life was training. My life was to kill him.

That day, Thursday, I traveled lightly. I had my handgun strapped to my left side, and my pistol to my right; I had a bag of magazines on my hip and my rifle slung over my back; my small sword tapped against my thigh and my sais rested next to each other at the small of my back; and finally, my small crossbow was strapped to my wrist and my broadsword slept in its sheath on my back. I tied my hair back and covered the bottom half of my face – I couldn't be recognized, and there would be no time for talking anyway. He would be dead before his mouth opened.

Finally, Rufus Shinra moved away from the window, and I was out of sight. I took a glance around me, then sprinted across the open clearing, halting next to the front door of the shack. No one had seen me, and no one was around for at least a mile. There were no windows on this side of the shack. I was in the clear. When he walked outside, I would kill him, and then they could have me. I would run, but they would catch me – that much was obvious. I didn't care, as long as he was dead by my hands.

I don't know how long I stood there, breathing lightly for fear that someone might hear me. I was afraid that they might hear my heart, it was beating so loud and fast. I didn't let myself move, didn't let my fingers drum on my guns as I wrapped my arms around my waist, ready to grab a weapon.

However long it had been didn't matter, because the door was opening. I grabbed both my guns, waited until the door opened wide enough, then jumped in view and raised my arms to empty my bullets into his chest.

But I didn't see blonde and blue – I saw red and green. And I paused for a heartbeat. And that one heartbeat cost me.

The man in front of me hit both my arms with a hard metal rod, and the spasming pain rippled through and I dropped my guns. I reached with one hand to shoot my crossbow, but the man grabbed my arm and spun me around, and trapped me between him and his metal rod. I couldn't move my arms, and I vainly struggled for a moment.

"So you're the Prez's new stalker, huh?" he said, his voice nearly lazy.

I grit my teeth together, grabbed my small sword, and stabbed my elbows into the man's gut. He grunted in pain and his grip loosened; I took advantage and spun around, drawing my small sword and slicing at him. He parried my strike with his rod, recovering more quickly than I thought he would. I dropped into a lower stance, centering my body weight, meeting his eyes. You could always tell your opponent's next move by their eyes.

But he just stood still – he didn't drop his stance or raise his weapon, just stood off-center and swung his rod at his side. He met my eyes evenly, smirking.

"You think you're hot stuff, don't you?" he said, cocking an eyebrow. I glared at him, and his smile widened. "Better hurry, or you won't be so secret anymore."

_Who is this guy?_ I thought. _Treating me like some kid!_ I swung at him again, and again he parried me. Swing, parry, swing, parry, and always he just stood, his weight in his hips, leaning back and meeting my eyes.

"Fight back!" I said, drawing my arm back and swinging at his chest with force.

There, in his eyes – the slightest furrow of his brow. But I didn't react in time. He knocked my sword back, grabbed my wrist with his free hand and jerked it backward. I cried out and dropped my sword, my knees locking. The man chuckled.

I reached behind me and grabbed one of my sais, clipping him at the chin. The man stumbled back and cupped a hand to his bleeding jaw, still holding my wrist and dragging me with him. I fell to my knees and scraped them on the rough ground.

The man gripped my wrist tighter. "Now you're pissing me off."

I almost smiled. Instead, I twisted my arm in his grasp and grabbed his wrist, digging my nails into his skin and pulling him down with me. He didn't go down, only lost his balance, but that was enough for me. I jumped up and hit his arm with the hilt of my sai, and he finally let go. I reached for my other sai, and everything happened quickly.

The man nearly growled. "Alright, that's it!" he yelled, and raised his rod and swung.

I didn't feel the pain, just the sudden pressure of metal against my skull, and then I didn't feel anything. Everything went black.

* * *

><p>Reno huffed and ran his hand through his hair, cursing under his breath. "That's the most annoying one so far," he commented to himself. He took a step toward the body in front of him and kicked her weapons away from her. He didn't know how long she'd be out for, and he didn't care to pick up where they'd left off.<p>

He furrowed his brow. "What's your angle, ninja girl?" He turned her head with the toe of his shoe, getting a good look at her face. It had been hard to see when her face was contorted with fury, but her features were soft, youthful. She had a white scar running through her eyebrow, up her forehead to her light brown hair. She was pretty.

So why did a young, pretty girl want to kill the President?

Reno frowned, scuffing his shoes and muttering another curse. He pulled out his phone and pressed a button on the side. "Rude, come outside."

The phone beeped, but Rude said nothing. Reno chuckled; it was too like him.

Before long, Rude stepped outside. His eyes immediately went to the girl, one eyebrow raising in curiosity.

"She's an assassin," Reno told him. "After the Prez."

"Why?" Rude asked.

"You think I asked? Look at my face! Look at what she did to my face!" Reno realized he hadn't moved his hand from his jaw the whole time. His palm was practically glued to his face with blood. "Ugh, this is disgusting. And you think I took the time to ask her why she paid us a visit?"

"I asked because of your face," Rude said. "Something like this, you should've been able to deal with."

"Hey, she's worse than she looks, alright?" Reno defended, gesturing toward her with his metal rod. "Anyway, what should we do with her?"

Rude swept the bottom of his jacket back to expose a black pistol.

Reno's face fell. "Do we have to?" Rude said nothing, just kept his poker face. "But… But she's not that good! We can fight her off again."

"What about your face?"

"It's nothing! Hardly a scratch."

Rude sighed, hiding his gun behind his jacket and crossing his arms. "What's this about, Reno? You think she's cute?"

"That's beside the point, Rude. We're not like we used to be anymore, you know? Before… I probably wouldn't'a cared. But that's not us anymore. Our job is just to protect the Prez, not all the rest of that stuff."

"So let's do our job and protect the President."

"Alright, alright… But what if –"

"Reno…"

"Jus' hear me out!" Reno folded up his rod and stuck it in its sheath on his hip. "How about we just take her weapons. What can she do if we take her weapons? And the Prez was plannin' on burning this place down today, anyway. So we take her stuff, and when she wakes up, we'll be long gone, she'll have no leads, and nothing to kill the Prez with. That'd work, right?"

Reno hated when Rude just stared at him, and that was what he was doing. Finally, he dropped his head. "You really are stuck on this 'better Shinra' deal, aren't you?"

Reno smirked. "Gotta keep our image up. For the Prez's sake, of course."

Within minutes, the ninja girl was stripped bare of all her weapons. "You must've hit her hard," Rude said. "She's been out for a long time."

"Do I hear jealousy, my friend?"

"Yes, Reno. I'm jealous that you hit girls."

"Well, don't put it like _that!_"

* * *

><p>My first thought was: <em>What's that smell?<em>

Smoke.

My eyes snapped open, blinded by light but I didn't care. I pushed myself up to my feet, but _agh!_ I fell back to my knees, gritting my teeth and shutting my eyes at the throbbing pain in my head. I pressed my palm to the back of my head, muttering curses to myself.

That man had knocked me out. Where was he? I looked around but didn't find him.

Or the shack. I found remnants of the shack, in a burning pile on the ground. All my leads, burnt to a crisp.

I stood up carefully, staring in disbelief at the ash and charred wood in front of me… and I felt lighter. My eyes went wide and I searched around me, my hands feeling for my swords, guns, anything.

Nothing. They'd stolen all my weapons, and burned the traces of their whereabouts.

My hands balled into fists, and I let out the longest, loudest stream of curse words I'd ever uttered in my life.


End file.
